Force My Love, Force My Hand
by XxHannyaUchihaxX
Summary: Poor Oliver and Marcus are being forced to marry and help repopulate the Wizarding World. They're being forced into something with the person they hate the most in the world...each other.
1. Prologue

_First of all, this is a yaoi story (in other words, boy on boy). If you don't like it, take your business elsewhere. Secondly, I do not own Harry Potter. End of discussion. Thirdly, this is a marriage law fan fiction. I apologize if it sucks horribly but I'm trying my best. Fourthly, this is a work in progress. There may be days where I go without posting seeing as how I'm very busy. Lastly, the idea behind the story:_

_Oliver Wood and Marcus Flint are being forced to marry. They abhor each other. Back in their school days, there was a spark and some risqué situations but since, there's been nothing. They hate the idea of marrying each other but I have a feeling their love will grow into something else ;)_

_Also, I switch point of views between the two. It might be one chapter as Oli and the next as Marcus or I might flip flop in the middle of the chapter. I promise that you'll know when it happens. Please bear with me as I create my first marriage law fan fiction. _

Force My Love, Force My Hand

~Oliver~

I remember the day it happened. I remember that letter. I remember how I felt. I remember the hate, dread and disgust knotting in my stomach. I remember it all.

~Marcus~

I was outraged. How could they set me up with someone like Oliver Wood? Was this some kind of sick joke the Ministry was trying to play? Or at least, that's how I felt when I first found out.

~Oliver~

What an arse! I hate him! I wish he would die!

~Marcus~

I would give anything to push him off the fucking London bridge!

~Oliver~

I love him. I want him. I need him. All of him. I want, need, wish for him to want me. Please, gods, make him love me.

~Marcus~

If only he knew. I would do anything for him to see how I feel. Will he feel the same way? Does he crave me as much as I crave him?

**DunDunDun…**

_This was my prologue. More will be posted soon ^_^ _

_Love, _

_Hannya (^_^) _

_P.S._

_The above emote is my version of a chubby kid, which I am. _


	2. Chapter 1: Unwanted News

Oliver

There I was, walking down the streets of muggle London without a care in the world. Despite all the amazing tea flavors in the Wizarding World, I preferred to visit a small muggle café a few streets over from the Leakey Cauldron. It's where I always went when I wanted a nice, plain cuppa without having to worry about running into annoying fans or old school mates. It was especially easy to avoid Ministry officials when I sat around said café all day. I hated it when they tried to follow me around Diagon Alley or the Ministry itself.

After the downfall of Voldemort, the Ministry had decided to take up the task of decreasing the number of squib births. To do so, the Minister of Magic had to create a special division dedicated to reading records and sorting out which families hadn't married into another. Some families only had one heir of the same sex as another family; therefore, a homosexual couple was forced into being. It really was quite cruel. If you applied to take on the responsibility of an arranged marriage, you usually were allowed to sort through the candidates and court one another to decide whether or not you will be compatible. On the other hand, if you were like me, you only were allowed so many opportunities to accept the offer before you were forced into a marriage.

I was running out of opportunities. I was too busy to apply, anyway. Being a Quidditch captain is no easy feat and with the added responsibility of a mate and family, well, it would make my life damn near impossible to live. The last thing I needed was a nagging wench on my case all the time. Then again, the last thing I needed was a woman at all. Sure, I had friends that were women but I preferred romantic relationships with men. Unfortunately, all the men I liked were taken, hetero or mingled with my family. I didn't have many options left. With that said, it's no wonder the Ministry was always following me around. They were trying their hardest to convince me to apply for the program which I simply refused to do.

With that aggravating thought in mind, I entered the muggle café I had been looking for and acquired a table for myself. When I was seated, a pleasant young woman approached me with a grin and a notepad for my order. She couldn't be older than eighteen. Her light brown hair cut in a pleasant bob framed her face and gave her a sort of fun vibe. I also noticed her green eyes examining me but not too intently.

"Have you visited us before?" she asked with a bubbly voice, bouncing a bit in place. She must be new.

"Indeed," I answered with a small smile.

"Oh, well, excellent! Do you know what you would like to drink? Perhaps a scone?" she offered, smile still present.

"Earl Grey, please. As for your offer of the scone, no thank you," I smiled and she nodded, jotting down the order quickly and taking off for the kitchen.

While I waited, I picked up a nearby muggle paper and slid it over a copy of the newest edition of Quidditch Times and Lives. QTL was a magazine frequently purchased by fan girls and fan boys to keep tabs on their favorite Quidditch players. I, on the other hand, preferred to think of it as spying. As I was flipping through the pages, I came across a picture of Harry and Draco. Harry was leaned against a desk covered in papers while Draco was seated with his hands folded in front of him. Harry's arms were folded across his chest. Both were dressed nicely in slacks, dress shoes, button-up shirts, vests and ties. Both also had their sleeves rolled up. While Draco wore an emerald green vest, Harry wore a pleasant plum. Beneath the photo was an article talking about their recent promotions to heads of the Quidditch department at the Ministry.

With the new couple in charge, I was certain the Quidditch rules might become a bit stricter. I didn't really have an issue with that but, I was afraid that Draco might take a bit of the fun out of it. He was always more stern than Harry and never really appreciated the game as much as his lover. I had nothing against the lad but everyone knew Harry was far more qualified to be in charge. Of course, they ran the department as a partnership but Draco would definitely be handling the business side while Harry handled all the players. Draco never was much of a people person.

Suddenly the bubbly waitress appeared and set my cuppa in front of me. She seemed a bit nervous as she offered me an envelope with the Ministry seal on it.

"Um, this appeared on the counter for you. It says "Oliver Wood at the back corner table of Rest Easy Café," she explained nervously as I took it from her. Without another word, she retreated to the back room of the building.

I cautiously opened the envelope and retrieved the letter. The Minister of Magic himself requested a meeting with me at four o' clock in the afternoon the next day. It was to discuss who I was to marry. Damn it all to Hell.

**DunDunDun…**

Marcus

I sat at home, thumbing through the mail that had piled up over the past week. All the pointless letters were what made me hate going out of town whether it be for business or pleasure although, it was usually for business. This last trip had dragged me to Russia where I had spoken to the captain of the Moscow Muggleborns, so named for the fact that every member of the team is muggleborn. That in itself was amazing. The team's plays were also amazing. Unfortunately, that had made them hard to beat.

While I was away, I had received twenty letters from the Ministry begging me to apply for the marriage program they had started. Of course, I just trashed them all. I had received another letter from an old schoolmate suggesting we get together for lunch some time. I trashed that letter as well. The only envelope I bothered paying attention to was the one that held information about a scheduled meeting the next day.

The letter itself had infuriated me. The content on the other hand had made me prepared to blow up all of London. I had informed the Ministry plenty of times that I wanted nothing to do with their stupid and utterly barmy plan for less squib births. I didn't see the problem with squibs and I didn't see how the current number of births was doing any damage at all. I stood angrily and launched the letter into my fireplace where it dissipated into nothingness.

I was going to hex that idiot Minister the moment I saw him. He would rue the day that he decided to force me into something I didn't want to be in and that day would be tomorrow.


	3. Chapter 2: Why Does It Have To Be Him?

Oliver

I had barely slept at all. I was cranky and more tired than I would have liked to be and the impending meeting didn't help my mood any. I went through my normal routines of showering, shaving, brushing my teeth and getting dressed as usual. The only breakfast I bothered with was a bagel and a cuppa as I rushed out of my flat via the floo network. As I appeared on Diagon Alley, I made my way to the Weasley joke shop to see my best mates. Luckily for me I arrived as they were stocking their shelves before the mid-day rush. The moment I stepped through the door, a toy of Dolores Umbridge cried my name to alert the Weasley twins to my presence.

"Freddie, Oliver is here!" I heard one of the mischievous men shout to the other. Just as I started to look around for the source of the voice, the two Apparated right in front of me.

"What brings you here so early mate?" the one I assumed to be Fred (only because George had a scar across his left ear) beamed down at me. Despite being a year older than them, they were still taller than me.

"I came here to tell you the allegedly joyous news," I sighed as George shoved a nearby box into my arms to help them stock the shelves.

"Oh? And what news is that?" George asked as I opened up the box and started placing their assorted candies on the shelves.

"I'm meeting the Minister today so I can be assigned a husband or wife," I groaned this time. Both the twins stopped their own stocking momentarily to stare at me.

"You actually applied?" one said as the other started filling the shelves once more.

"No, I didn't. I don't see why you think I would waste my time with such a thing," I snapped, still cranky from the lack of sleep.

"No need to bite my head off," the ginger mumbled.

"Sorry about that. I didn't sleep much last night," I mumbled as well.

"Obviously, considering you only snap like that when you're tired or severely hacked off. Still, why are you meeting the Minister if you didn't apply?" George asked, looking over at me.

"I'm being forced into a marriage. Since I'm only a half-blood who was refusing to apply, it was only a matter of time until this happened," I sighed, stopping momentarily to allow myself the pang of sadness.

The twins both stopped their work and approached me to place a hand on my back. While one made small circular movements, the other simply gave me a couple pats. All was quiet as we thought of how difficult and unhappy my new life was going to be. Finally, I shrugged off my self-pity and continued stocking their shelves. The twins exchanged looks of unease before continuing their own jobs.

"Well, if you think about it, they might pair you with someone you really get along with," George offered in a hopeful voice.

"And if they don't?" I asked with another sigh.

"I'm sure they will," Fred answered with a firm nod.

**DunDunDun…**

I sat, rather uncomfortably, in a leather chair placed in front of the Minister's desk. Kingsley Shacklebolt was seated behind his desk with a copy of the Daily Prophet in his grip. I wasn't even sure if he was aware of my presence. Just as I was about to clear my throat, he lowered the magical newspaper and stared me down but not unkindly.

"I'm glad you made it to this meeting, Oliver Wood," the dark skinned man greeted me with a small smile.

"That makes one of us," I mumbled as I folded one leg over the other, resting my folded hands on my knee. He adjusted his collar uncomfortably.

"I hate to put you in this position but you've left me with no other choice. The Ministry has given you several opportunities to volunteer and choose your future spouse, all of which you denied. This is the last course of action that I can take," Kingsley sighed heavily and rubbed his temples after shutting his eyes.

"I don't understand why it's so important that I be a participant," I responded rather bluntly.

"Oliver, you're one of the only heirs to a dying breed of wizard. We need you to participate in this program," was the only explanation I was given. I was dissatisfied.

My face was blank as I waited for him to provide with a name. That's the only reason I had bothered to show my face at the meeting. I wanted to know who the Ministry was assigning me to marry. Without warning, I heard the door behind me open but I didn't bother to see who had entered. It actually wasn't until the third party sat down that I bothered to focus on the figure. My eyes shot wide open. There beside me sat Marcus Flint, the sexiest Quidditch player alive…too bad I hated him with everything in me.

Marcus

All morning I had fret over my appearance. I had picked out a nice white shirt to wear under my favorite forest green half-zip jumper. I had even chosen to wear a brand new pair of dark jeans and black and white sneakers. It had taken me thirty minutes to perfectly style my hair before brushing my now straight teeth. All of that time I had spent on my appearance now made pointless. My looks were now being wasted on the hopeless dolt known as Oliver Wood.

While the brunette looked undeniably sexy in his white button-up shirt, tie and slacks, I still hated his guts. Just as I was mulling over how much I hated the Scotsman, Shacklebolt cleared his throat to catch out attention.

"You're late, Marcus," the Minister of Magic spoke calmly, addressing me.

"And you told me this would be a meeting to discuss who I'm going to marry. You didn't tell me I would have to discuss this topic with a man I hate," I hissed at the older gentleman. His lips curved into a smile.

"Well, you'll need to learn to get along with him," he chuckled a bit.

"And why is that?" I asked. Wood seemed to fidget and I could tell what his guess was. Please, Merlin, don't let him be right.

"You're going to marry him," Shacklebolt answered calmly once more. I was out of my chair in a matter of seconds while Wood remained seated.

The brunet's eyes were closed and he was pinching the bridge of his nose while his elbow rested on the arm of the chair. His other arm was hung over his leg. How in the hell could he be so calm?

"Is there a reason you're standing, Marcus?" the Minister asked, interrupting my thoughts.

"I'm pissed! You honestly expect me just go along with this?" I asked, my voice rising in volume with each word.

"Yes, I do," the dark skinned man answered with a smile.

"And if I refuse?" I asked.

"We don't get that option," Wood chimed in, his eyes still closed.

"Who asked you?" I snapped.

"You shouldn't have had to ask the question at all. Oh wait, I forgot how much of an idiot you are," he shot at me, finally opening his eyes to glare at me.

"Listen here you foul git and listen well. I have no intentions of marrying you or starting a family with you. If you think you can change my mind, then you're sorely mistaken," I hissed, my eyes narrowing.

"Gentlemen, you don't have a choice. If you don't comply with this order of business, you'll both be stripped of your titles as Captain and possibly forced to serve a five year sentence in Azkaban," Kingsley Shacklebolt interjected before Wood could snap back with some kind of sarcastic remark as he was known to do.

"You're going to take away my title of Captain if I don't agree to marry a man I hate?" Wood shouted, standing now. That was just like Wood. Of course he would care more about Quidditch than prison. Then again, I was the exact same way.

"Yes, Oliver, I will," the Minister answered coolly.

When neither of us replied, he took that as a sign of defeat. He then smiled and stood as well, setting a piece of parchment on his desk and sliding a quill and ink bottle up next to it.

"Gentlemen, sign your names on the assigned lines and we'll pick a date for you to be married. Also, there's the matter of the change of address and last name," Shacklebolt sighed and folded his hands in front of him.

"I refuse to change my last name," I snapped.

"I feel the same," Wood agreed, his eyes narrowed at the Minister.

"That's all fine and well. Changing your address, however, is a requirement," the Minister chuckled, waving away our objections.

I glared at Wood, not having to say that I refused to move. He looked as if he were about to object but then he closed his mouth. Without a word, he simply leaned down and signed his name. When he moved to the address line, I gave him the information he needed so he could write it down. It wasn't like him to just surrender, at least, not on the Quidditch field. When it was my turn, I copied his actions before sliding the parchment back to the Minister.

"Congratulations, gentlemen, you're now engaged," were the last words I bothered to listen to before I walked out of the office.

**DunDunDun…**

_Well, this is the second chapter ^_^ I hope you are enjoying this as much as I am ^_^ I promise to post more soon! Please review! I would like to know your thoughts on the story :D_

_Love,_

_Hannya (^_^)_


	4. Chapter 3: Buried Memories

Oliver

I hated packing. I had found someone to buy my flat and the paintings in my home. The only personal things I had left were my clothes, some books, a couple of old photographs and a photo album. I wouldn't need much considering I was moving into an already lived in flat. When I was finished, I stepped into my fireplace travelled to Flint's flat.

Despite all of the money he had surely made from his fame, he was living in a very small flat. The fireplace was just large enough for me to fit through and very close to the wall on my right. There were two four-paned windows that looked out onto the busy street of Ravenwood. The small town wasn't far from Godric's Hollow. Flint never really had liked big cities or flats; at least, that's what it said in his article in QLT…not that I paid much attention.

The dark paneled walls looked nice with the sapphire blue curtains that hung around the windows. All the furniture was square, black and leather. The coffee table in front of the fireplace was glass and sat on legs made of dark metal. The wooden floors brightened up the dark room. As my eyes scanned the room, I saw nothing but paintings of landscapes. Off to the left was the small kitchen with a round wooden dining table in the corner. Down the very short hall, which I could only see as I moved towards the kitchen, were what looked like two doors to bedrooms, a bathroom and a hall closet. Over all, the flat was small and cozy. If it didn't belong to Flint, I think I would have quite liked the environment.

As I moved into the kitchen, I noticed the floors were black and white tile. All of the cabinets were a supple cherry wood with stain glass. The granite countertops were blue with specks of black, white and gray. The dining room table was also made of cherry wood. All the appliances were stainless steel and black which seemed to make the off-white walls seem darker than they actually were. Overall, the two rooms blended nicely. Peeking down the hall, the walls were also dark paneled with white doors leading to the rooms. As I was admiring the hall, I remembered something was missing. I looked around for any sign of Flint but saw no one.

"Ahem," I heard someone clear their throat behind me. I turned with quickly, both of my suitcases in hand, to see Flint staring at me from the view of his front door.

"I-I didn't know where to put my things," I stammered quickly, trying not to sound nervous.

"Last room on the right but before you do that, we need to go over some things. The hall bathroom is yours since I don't use it. I don't care how you decorate it or your room. The room across from yours is mine. You are not to go in there. Sheets and blankets are in the hall closet as I'm sure you guessed. I eat dinner around five but you can eat whenever. I cook my own meals which means I expect you to cook your own. I would prefer to have little to no contact with you but since this flat is so small, I'm bound to run into you at some point. Don't expect me to speak to you much. Also, at some point we're going to have to reproduce. When I decide to stick my dick in you, you're going to have to deal with it. Once I've got you knocked up and you give birth, you can screw whoever you want. Expect me to do the same. I don't really care what you do as long as it doesn't interrupt my life. Do you understand everything?" he spoke quickly. I was barely capable of understanding anything he said considering how fast he had spoken. His piercing gaze alerted me to the fact that I should answer so, all I did was nod.

Satisfied, he stalked into the kitchen, leaving me with my bags. Quietly, I made my way down the hallway and shuffled into my room. It was small. There was only one window on the wall opposite the door. Every wall was white and bare. The only things that actually occupied the room were a basic cherry wood double bed, cherry wood dresser and a cherry wood desk with a matching chair. The room felt more like a plush prison cell than a bedroom. With a small sigh, I shut the white door and put my bags on the bare mattress of the bed. I unpacked slowly, feeling a deep sinking feeling in my heart.

When my clothes were in the dresser and closet, I set my toiletries up in the hall bathroom. I could hear Flint stirring in the kitchen but I didn't bother to see what he was doing. I simply returned to my new room and looked around. With a wave of my hand, the walls were a deep scarlet with simple black curtains. White sheets adorned my bed along with a white pillow and a scarlet comforter. Yeah, that's as close to home it was going to get. I then pushed my bed so that its headboard was against the left wall, leaving only a bit of space between the foot and the dresser. I then pushed the dresser closer to the corner next to the desk. I looked around once more before nodding and sinking down into the desk's chair.

The sinking feeling was starting to take its toll on me. I knew Flint was a jerk but I didn't know that he could be so cruel. It hurt more than I thought it would. I don't even know what I was expecting and I don't know why it hurt. I felt like a worthless piece of property that no one wanted. Why didn't anyone worth being with want me? Was I really so horrid? I kicked off my shoes and slid out of my coat, tossing it over the foot of my bed as I sat cross-legged. I then stared at my hands, hoping they would give me a clue as to why I wasn't wanted. I was a famous Quidditch player and I wasn't entirely ugly so, why was I thrown in with Flint? Speaking of…he had wanted me at one point when we were schoolboys. There were a few moments where he had pulled me into a dark alcove and practically had his way with me though we never got very far. So, why were things different now? Did he always hate me or was this some new trend he was going through? Did he actually like me when we were in school? If he did, why does he hate me now?

All these thoughts were driving me mad and the coming onslaught of tears wasn't helping.

**DunDunDun…**

Marcus

Just staring at from behind was making me hard. There he stood, short brown hair lit by sunlight which cast his beautiful silhouette on my kitchen wall. He had this adorable dip in his back that curved out to form a delicious arse that I would just love to pound into the middle of next week. Merlin, Oliver Wood was so sexy…too bad I hated him. His attitude pissed me off. No matter how bad he screwed up or how many insults he spat about someone or another team, he was always innocent. It was like the whole world thought he was some kind of god but he just loved to play humble and pretend that he had no idea what they were talking about. Nothing ever made him angry; actually, he never really showed emotion except for on the Quidditch field. Just as he was looking around, I cleared my throat.

"Ahem," I coughed, causing him to whirl around in disbelief. I fought to keep a smile from spreading across my face.

"I-I didn't know where to put my things," he stammered out, nervousness heavy in his voice. As adorable as that was, I still hated him which made my eyes narrow.

"Last room on the right but before you do that, we need to go over some things. The hall bathroom is yours since I don't use it. I don't care how you decorate it or your room. The room across from yours is mine. You are not to go in there. Sheets and blankets are in the hall closet as I'm sure you guessed. I eat dinner around five but you can eat whenever. I cook my own meals which means I expect you to cook your own. I would prefer to have little to no contact with you but since this flat is so small, I'm bound to run into you at some point. Don't expect me to speak to you much. Also, at some point we're going to have to reproduce. When I decide to stick my dick in you, you're going to have to deal with it. Once I've got you knocked up and you give birth, you can screw whoever you want. Expect me to do the same. I don't really care what you do as long as it doesn't interrupt my life. Do you understand everything?" I asked, speaking rapidly. The idiot stood dumbfounded before nodding.

I quickly turned on my heel and stalked into the kitchen, starting a pot of tea. I heard him shuffle down the hallway and into his room. It wasn't long until the door was shut and I heard the sounds of unpacking. Quickly I set to tidying up the place. I preferred to manually clean my flat rather than use magic. I felt the extra effort gave the space a personal touch. When the sounds of moving furniture reached my ears, I was curious as to what exactly he was doing. Despite the curiosity, I continued about my cleaning. It was when everything was silent that I grew worried.

Quietly I made my way down the hall. Luckily for me, the keyhole of every door was old fashioned and big enough to peek through. He was seated, cross-legged, on his bed and staring at his hands like they were going to speak to him. The expression on his face was heartbreaking and even more so when I saw a tear fall. It reminded me of a day all those years ago. It was the day that I had fallen in love with Oliver Wood, a few months before he shattered my heart into a million pieces.

It was after a big Quidditch game which happened to be between Slytherin and Gryffindor. Wood had just received news that his uncle, who he had lived with for most of his life, had passed away. Despite the joy of his team winning, he was crushed and sobbing in the library. He figured he would be alone there so he could mourn but I had been around. I found him in a corner on the floor, sitting cross-legged and crying. I had snuck up to him and leaned against the wall, looking down at the pathetic but heart-wrenching sight. As much as I had wanted to make a mockery of him, a deeper and bigger part of me had wanted to comfort him so; I had sat down beside him for support.

He clung to me that night. I had even taken him to a private room of the castle so that he wouldn't have to sleep alone. Ever since that day, we would make out in dark alcoves, share stolen glances, touch hands in the halls and even such each other off. Of course, nothing went farther than that. I had been ready to give him my everything when the day he broke my heart came to pass. Although, that was a story for a different day.

Coming back from my memories, I watched as he curled up and rested his chin on his knees. I wanted to go to him. I wanted to hold him, stroke his hair and tell him that everything would be alright. Everything inside of my body begged me to swallow my pride and comfort him but I remained strong. Perhaps I had been a little harsh to him. Making up my mind, I stood and knocked on his door softly. It was a few minutes before he had opened the door. His eyes were red from crying and his voice was thick despite his efforts to hide those facts. It took everything in me to keep from reaching out and wiping away a stray tear that had fallen.

"I was wondering, since it's your first night here, if you would like to eat dinner with me?" I offered, forcing my eyes to lock with his. He saved me from embarrassment when his darted down to stare at the floor.

"I-I would like that," he practically whispered. With a curt nod, I moved back down the hall and into the kitchen to cook us both dinner.

It took a while but I had whipped up a nice casserole and some tea. Once our plates were full, we sat in silence while waiting for the other to make the first move. Slowly he gripped his fork and, with shaking hands, started to eat. A small smile spread across his face as he chewed his food. I could tell he liked it. I hid my own smile and started to eat as well. Although the food was good and the company wasn't all that bad, I couldn't help but remember my earlier thoughts.

Could this really be an opportunity to be with the man I was in love with again?

**DunDunDun…**

_Chapter 3 :D ! I'm so happy I finally got it typed up :D I hope you're all enjoying this fiction of mine!_

_Love,_

_Hannya_


	5. Chapter 4: Confusion

Oliver

It had been two weeks since my first night staying with Marcus Flint. His harsh words had made me cry that first night but later in the same evening, he had come to me and asked me to eat with him. It had been like that day all those years ago when we were in school. Once again he had been my knight in shining armor. Ever since then, he hadn't really been much of an arse but he had his moments. No matter how rude he was, though, he always apologized in some awkward manner or another. Sometimes I wondered if he still hated me but that question was always quickly answered with a harsh word here and there. Honestly, it was like a damn roller coaster and I was getting sick of it.

The only time I was ever assertive or even aggressive was when I was dealing with anything Quidditch. Other than that, I was practically a doormat. I did what everyone asked and I always let others make decisions for me. I never argued or put my opinion out there unless asked. Sometimes people forgot I was even in the room. So, when I was treated like crap for a little while, I didn't mind too much. Eventually, though, I got tired of it. I had decided to confront him when I next saw him…which would be in an hour when he arrived back from a meeting at the Ministry.

For some reason, I felt it was necessary to look good for an argument. I took the time to check my very short hair in the mirror, pick out my best button-up shirt and dark jeans. I shook my head at my idiocy as I dressed myself. I had been wearing a simple t-shirt and old jeans but those had been quickly cast aside. I had just finished with the belt on my jeans after tucking in my shirt when I heard the front door open and shut. I quickly rolled up my sleeves and walked out into the living room, a slight frown on my face. Flint had just kicked off his shoes and tossed his keys aside when he saw me.

"What are you frowning about?" he grumbled, his eyes narrowing.

"Why? You really want to know why I'm frowning?" I returned the question with a slight attitude.

"Would I have asked if I didn't?" he shot back.

"You're the reason I'm frowning," I answered after a short pause.

"Oh really now? What did I do this time?" he hissed. The past two weeks I would give him a glare here and there when he agitated me. This was the first time I actually said anything.

"Everything," I hissed back.

"How in the hell could I have done everything wrong?" his hiss turned to a growl.

"Since I arrived here, you've done nothing but hurt me one time after another. Sure, you apologize but right after you do, you do something else to hurt me. Honestly, your mood swings are starting to piss me off and I'm not going to deal with it anymore. I don't know what your problem is but I'm certain your problem is with me. If I 'm right, then you need to go ahead and spit it out. I'm not going to spend the rest of my life married to you and raising a child with you while you're constantly putting me down. It simply isn't going to happen. I would rather receive the Dementor's kiss before having to live my life in misery," I snapped, the volume of my voice increasing as I ranted.

When I was done, his eyes were slightly wide which was surprising. He was always either extremely angry and shouting when he argued with someone or he was calm and sarcastic. This silent side of Flint was worrisome. Not to mention the face that he looked sort of…sad. His eyes seemed to focus on an invisible spot of some sort on the floor. He simply refused to look at me and his face seemed to grow more and more upset. Just as I was about to ask what was wrong, he looked up with narrowed eyes. His face was now a mixture of pain, anger and sorrow. I didn't know which emotion he was feeling more.

"I don't think you know what hurt really is," he hissed quietly. I felt as if he had just slapped me with all the strength in his body.

"What did you just say to me?" I asked quietly, eyes wide. Suddenly I was numb and I didn't know what to feel.

"I said that I don't think you know what hurt really is," he hissed again, his eyes narrowing more.

"How could you say something so cruel?" I asked, whispering now.

"How could I say something so cruel? Did you really just ask me that? I don't even think you know what cruel is! You asked what my problem was, well, I'll tell you. You're my problem. You're why I'm angry all the time. It's your fault!" he shouted, fists clenched, his knuckles turning white.

"How is it my fault?" I asked, my voice catching in my throat.

"Don't play coy with me. You know damn well what you did to me," he growled.

"If I knew, I wouldn't have asked!" I shouted, fighting tears. His eyes widened a bit before narrowing again.

"Then I really must have meant nothing to you…and you call me heartless. You have no idea, you foul prick," he hissed, hurt becoming more apparent than anger in his voice.

I was shocked. What on earth was he talking about? He meant nothing to me? Why was he referring to himself in past tense? Adding to my shock was confusion and, slowly, panic. I had no idea what was going on. I might as well just go ahead and voice my confusion.

"I don't understand…" I let my voice trail off.

"What don't you understand?" he snapped.

"I don't understand what you mean! You're over there talking about meaning nothing to me in the past tense! What on earth are you referring to?" I asked, hoping I wasn't joining him in sounding like a loon. He was silent again before answering.

"When we were just boys…I heard everything…you and one of the twins…and after you said…forget it! It's not like you give a damn anyway!" he snapped and shoved his feet back in his shoes before stomping out of the apartment and slamming the door shut.

When we were boys? He heard everything? Me and one of the twins? I said something? What the hell was he on about? Unless…he couldn't be referring to that night, could he? I didn't even know he knew about what happened! Slowly, as things were starting piece themselves together, I debated going after him. If I did, he would probably lash out and just get even more angry. If I didn't…would it just be hurting him more?

**DunDunDun…**

Marcus

It had been two weeks since Oliver Wood moved into my flat. I had made him cry the first night he stayed with me but I tried my best to fix it. No matter what, though, I always seemed to fuck up and hurt him again. After I hurt him, I would try and make him feel better. Somehow I managed to cheer him up and then I would hurt him again not long afterwards. I just didn't know how to ac t around him. I was still in love with the guy but at the same time, it hurt just to look at him. Every time I laid eyes on the git, I thought about all those times we had been together in school and then that one day where everything fell apart.

Spending all day at the Ministry, coupled with my abnormally depressing thoughts, had just pissed me off. I wanted nothing more to get back to my flat, sip on a nice hot cuppa and the sulk in the shower. To finish off my ideal night, I would curl up in bed and drift off into a dreamless sleep. Too bad things never go as planned or as you want them to. I had just walked through my door, kicked off my shoes and tossed my keys on the kitchen counter when a frowning Wood presented himself to me. I just couldn't wait to find out what I had done wrong this time.

"What are you frowning about?" it came out more as a grumble than a sigh. What? I was tired. Cut me some slack.

"Why? You really want to know why I'm frowning?" he returned the question with a light snap. What the hell?

"Would I have asked if I didn't?" I answered with my own little snap. Two could play that game.

"You're the reason I'm frowning," he answered after pausing for a moment.

"Oh really now? What did I do this time?" I asked, ready for this argument to be over with. Over the past two weeks he had done nothing more than glare when I did something to irritate him. I was kind of shocked by this unexpected behavior.

"Everything," he hissed at me. He was actually hissing at me.

"How in the hell could I have done everything wrong?" I growled at him. Why was he being such an arse? Was this payback?

"Since I arrived here, you've done nothing but hurt me one time after another. Sure, you apologize but right after you do, you do something else to hurt me. Honestly, your mood swings are starting to piss me off and I'm not going to deal with it anymore. I don't know what your problem is but I'm certain your problem is with me. If I 'm right, then you need to go ahead and spit it out. I'm not going to spend the rest of my life married to you and raising a child with you while you're constantly putting me down. It simply isn't going to happen. I would rather receive the Dementor's kiss before having to live my life in misery," he snapped, the volume of his voice increasing as he ranted.

My eyes were wide. That had certainly been more unexpected than the initial argument. I didn't mean to hurt him, honest. That was farthest from my mind. All the snappy little comments just sort of…came out. Then again, every time I said something hurtful, I always thought about that night when he broke my heart. That night had changed everything…and now he was telling me that all I did was hurt him and that he would rather receive the Dementor's kiss than spend the rest of his life with me. Could I possibly be any worse of a human being? Wait, I could…I could do what he did to me…now was it. Now was the time to see if he remembered anything. All the anger, pain and sorrow that had been building up in me for years was starting to surface. I don't know if the floodgates would hold. Slowly I brought my now narrowed eyes up from the floor to stare him in the eye.

"I don't think you know what hurt really is," I hissed so quietly, it could have been a whisper. His eyes went wide and his body went rigid. You would thought I slapped him by the look on his face.

"What did you just say to me?" he asked quietly. Perhaps I had just put him in a state of shock.

"I said that I don't think you know what hurt really is," I let out another hiss and narrowed my eyes more.

"How could you say something so cruel?" he asked, whispering now. Like he had any right asking me something like that.

"How could I say something so cruel? Did you really just ask me that? I don't even think you know what cruel is! You asked what my problem was, well, I'll tell you. You're my problem. You're why I'm angry all the time. It's your fault!" I shouted at him. All my anger was starting to bubble over and I had to clench my fists to keep from punching the wall. My knuckles were starting to turn white and I could feel my blunt nails digging into my palms.

"How is it my fault?" he asked. His voice caught in his throat and a slight bit of guilt stabbed at my heart.

"Don't play coy with me. You know damn well what you did to me," I growled, trying to mask the sense of self-loathing that was starting to bubble up.

"If I knew, I wouldn't have asked!" he shouted. I could see the tears starting to blur his vision. What had I done? My eyes widened but then I felt another wave of my own pain and I narrowed my eyes again.

"Then I really must have meant nothing to you…and you call me heartless. You have no idea, you foul prick," I hissed, hurt becoming more apparent in my voice than I would have liked. There was silence as the pained look morphed into something that was a mixture of pain, confusion and shock.

"I don't understand…" his voice trailed off.

"What don't you understand?" I snapped.

"I don't understand what you mean! You're over there talking about meaning nothing to me in the past tense! What on earth are you referring to?" he asked, desperation starting to slide its way into his voice. I was silent.

It was true. He didn't remember what he did to me. He didn't understand why looking at him, talking to him, living with him and dreaming about him hurt me so much. He couldn't possibly understand why I was so upset. Maybe I could give him a small clue. Would it make a difference?

"When we were just boys…I heard everything…you and one of the twins…and after you said…forget it! It's not like you give a damn anyway!" I had started to try and form a coherent explanation but then I thought better of it. I just wound up snapping again and shoving my feet in my shoes. I vaguely remember grabbing my keys before slamming the door behind me as I stormed down the hall.

Why should he give a damn about me? He wouldn't come after me. He didn't care a thing about me. He wouldn't try to find me at the small park down the road. He wouldn't bother trying to piece together the information I had given him. He would probably just go about his day with that stupid expression on his idiotic face. I could feel the tears starting to sting my eyes as I walked down the road in the chilly weather. I probably should have grabbed a warmer jacket but honestly, who would care if I froze to death in this chill? Certainly not Oliver Wood. I had a bigger heart than he thought and when he tore it pieces…it never stitched itself back together.

**DunDunDun…**

_Phew. I just wrote this chapter today v.v today has been a very emotional day for me and I almost didn't write this chapter. Thankfully I managed. It may be utter crap and I apologize v.v Still, I hope to post Chapter 5 sometime soon. Who knows? Anyway, I thank all of my supporters and I continue to ask that you bear with me. _

_Love,_

_Hannya (^_^)_


	6. Chapter 5: Love Must Wait Longer

Oliver

Against my better judgment, I went after him. Honestly, what was he thinking? It was freezing outside and all he had on was that stupid half-zip jumper of his. With a groan, I pulled on one of my heavier coats and grabbed his before charging out the door and after him. I didn't have the slightest clue where he was going until I got outside. A single set of footprints in the snow led away from the front door of the apartment building and down the road. With a sigh, I followed my only clue as to where Marcus Flint could possibly be. It seemed like I had been following the footprints for ages when I finally happened upon a small park at the end of the road.

The park was old and abandoned. The only things that actually adorned the sad plot of land were one swing set consisting of two rusty swings, a metal slide and a bench where Flint sat with his back to me. He had his arms wrapped around himself and he was shaking. I couldn't tell whether the shakes were from the cold or tears. I could feel my heart breaking as I watched the pitiful man shiver alone in the quickly approaching night. Softly and silently, I approached him to stand a few feet away. He didn't even look up at me as I stood close by, staring down at his figure.

"I thought you might need this," I said softly, lifting the coat in my hand slightly.

The dark-haired beauty looked up slightly and eyed the coat before looking further up at me. His cheeks were stained from the tears he had undoubtedly shed. The rims of his eyes were red and he looked close to sickly. My heart broke more than it had before. I had caused this and I hadn't even intended to. I could imagine that's how Flint was feeling right about then and had been feeling for the past two weeks. I had done him the same unkindness he had done me. As his eyes were searching mine, they dropped away to stare at the coat before he shook his head, rejecting my help. With a stubborn snort, I threw the coat around his shoulders and sat beside him.

"What have I done to you, Marcus?" using his first name for the first time in years. His eyes were fixed on the ground but they widened at the sound of his name. Still, he didn't look up at me.

"Does it really matter?" he asked quietly. I could hear the defeat in his voice.

"Yes, it does matter. I obviously hurt you in a very bad way a long time ago…I think…I remember the night you were talking about earlier but, could you at least tell me about what you remember? I want to be on the same page as you. I want to understand," my voice had started out soft and ended in a whisper as my eyes desperately searched his profile. With a small sigh, he nodded.

"I remember that night so clearly…It had been a week after you had told me that you were falling for me. I hadn't known what to say but I remember kissing you after you had told me. That night a week later, I was heading to the library where we usually met to tell you that I was falling for you too. I was going to tell you that if I wanted to lose my virginity to anyone, I wanted it to be you. I had even started planning some long and ridiculous speech in my head because, for the first time in my life, I felt like I actually meant something to somebody…and then I heard you…you were with one of the twins at the table in the back corner where we always met."

"You were saying no when I walked up and then he was trying to convince you to sleep with him. He wanted to make someone jealous, he never said who, and he wanted you to be the one to help him. I remember you telling him that you and I had just reached a new level in our awkward relationship and he had told you that what we had wasn't, and I quote, "a real relationship. If he really cared about you, Oli, he would have said so. He's just using you. All he wants is your body and once he gets it, he'll leave. If you sleep with me, at least we'll still be friends." Then, I heard the words that ruined it all…" he finished in sorrowful whisper after he choked out most of the story.

"You're right," I finished for him. I had said those two words not even a moment after George had propositioned me.

"…Those words ripped me in half…I couldn't think or breath. All I could do was back away and run…I never wanted to see your face again or hear your voice…" he mumbled, choking on his words for a moment. His eyes were focused on the ground but I could see the tears dripping to the ground.

"That's why you stopped coming near me…that's why you shoved me when I tried to talk to you the next day…" I whispered, realization hitting me. The brunet nodded, confirming my thoughts.

"I was so hurt…" he choked out, more tears falling.

"Marcus, I wish you would have stayed for the rest of the conversation. After I said those words, George had given me a dumbfounded look and I explained to him what I meant by saying "you're right." I had said that in response to his comment about him and me still being friends. I then explained to him that my heart belonged to you and it always would. He called me a joke and stormed off, ranting about how stupid I was being and about how you would ruin my life. I had ignored him. Marcus, I never slept with George. I've…never slept with anyone…" I confessed at the end, my own eyes staring at the spot where his tears were staining the snow. His eyes widened and, finally, he looked up at me. My eyes looked up to lock with his.

"W-What?" he stammered.

"You dumby, I'm incapable of lying. When I told him that my heart belonged to you and always would, I was telling the truth. My heart has never belonged to anyone else. Despite all the hateful and hurtful comments I've said to you over the years, I've never stopped loving you," I made another confession.

"You've always loved me?" he asked, mouth hanging slightly open.

"Yes, Marcus Flint, I have always loved you," I answered with a nod and a slight smile. His eyes widened more and fresh tears came to his eyes.

"Merlin, Oliver…I never knew…if I had…oh, Merlin! I've been so cruel to you! I never meant a word of it, honest!" he apologized quickly, working himself into a panic.

"It's alright…I just…there's one way you can make it up to me…" I said quietly, a light blush coming to my cheeks.

"Anything, I'll do anything," he said quickly, moving closer. I swallowed the lump in my throat.

"Tell me how you feel…about me…" I mumbled after a pause in the middle. His wide eyes softened and he smiled a bit, letting out a soft chuckle.

"Honestly?" he asked with that dumb smile of his.

"Yes, honestly," I answered, slightly afraid now but still not knowing what to make of his expression.

"I've been in love with you since the day I laid eyes on you," he confessed, reaching a hand up to stroke my cheek. A brighter blush than the one before crept up my cheeks.

"No lie?" I asked.

"No lie and, to prove it to you, I'm going to give you something," he said calmly.

"And what are you going to give me?" I asked nervously.

Suddenly, but still somehow slowly, he leaned forward and placed a soft kiss on my lips. His eyes were shut and our knees were touching. The kiss wasn't heated but it did have a tinge of lust in it. Despite the somewhat animal emotion, the kiss was longing and needy. It was an apology and a promise. He was apologizing for everything he had ever done and promising to never do it again. How could I refuse such a promise? Softly, I returned the kiss, putting my own promise into it. I was promising to keep loving him…no matter how much of an arse he could be.

**DunDunDun…**

Marcus

After our first kiss in the snow, Oliver and I had spent hours on the cold bench reminiscing about our days as schoolboys. He had even, after much prodding, admitted to having a few masturbatory fantasies about me. I had also admitted to such fantasies about him. While we were having such a grand old time talking about our past, Oliver had stopped and blushed a deep shade of red. I wasn't quite sure what had brought on the sudden embarrassment but to see him so nervous was adorable.

"M-Marcus?" he stammered quietly. I had to suppress my chuckle.

"Yes, Oliver?" I answered with another question. He blushed a deeper shade of red than I thought possible.

"W-We're already engaged and all but, um…" he let his voice trail off. I tilted my head to the side, not quiet understanding what he trying to say.

"But what?" I asked softly, not trying to sound pushy.

"D-Do you still hate the idea of getting married to me?" he asked in a rush. I was guessing that he felt if he just spit it out, it would be easier. I would have had to suppress another chuckle if I hadn't been so shocked at the question.

"Oliver, I know I haven't been the kindest of men the past couple of weeks and I'm really sorry about that. I also know that, even after tonight, you might have doubts about my love for you. I want to assure you right now that I am indeed in love with you and that I am happy to be marrying you. I may not have anything right now but I have every intention of getting you a ring and if you even think about protesting, I will punish you," I ended with a stern nod. His blush had become a rather unhealthy shade of red and he was now biting his lip with wide eyes.

"R-Ring? P-Punish me?" he stammered, his fists clenching the material of his jeans.

"Oh yes, I plan to punish you rather harshly should you refuse my gift," I gave him a devilish wink and he dropped his face. I let my chuckle go as I leaned forward and placed a soft kiss on his cheek before standing and offering him my hand.

"Come on, Oli. Let's go home," I smiled down at him warmly. His eyes made contact with mine and his face brightened at mention of his nickname.

He slid his hand into mine and laced his fingers between my own. Slowly I led him back to the flat where we sat together and drank peppermint tea to warm ourselves. I built a fire in the fireplace and sat on the couch next to my future husband. I had taken a seat in the corner of the leather couch seated cozily in front of the fire and Oli had taken his seat next to me. He sat curled up and barefoot with his head relaxing on my shoulder. He seemed happy with the seating position and even nuzzled me. He certainly was adorable. The clearing of his throat pulled me out of my thoughts and my eyes met his nervous gaze.

"Marcus?" he asked quietly.

"Yes?" I answered just as quietly.

"Why don't you have any pictures of your family or friends? Your mantle is completely bare and you only have paintings of landscapes," he observed softly. I chuckled a bit.

"Well, I'm not exactly the easiest guy to get along with. I mean, the only real friend I have is Draco Malfoy but he spends all of his time with Harry…I don't really like to associate with others and from what I've read in QLT, you don't either," I chuckled softly. He sat up a little more and looked at me as if I had grown a second head.

"You read the articles about me in QLT?" he asked in astonishment. I blushed a light shade of pink and stared at the floor.

"I, uh, actually saved all of the articles in a shoe box and threw the rest of the magazines out," I answered shyly. He chuckled a bit and kissed my cheek softly.

"I did the same thing with your articles," he whispered in my ear and kissed my cheek again. I brought my eyes back up and shifted to face him.

Softly, I leaned in and placed a small kiss on his lips. I decided to let a hand rest on his thigh as I set my cuppa down on the table next to his and kissed him again. His eyes shut as he returned the kiss. I followed suit and brought my other hand up to rest on his cheek. As our kiss was starting to become a bit more heated, I took my lips from his and kissed along his jaw line. I then moved the kisses down to his neck, causing him to tilt his head so I could gain better access to his flesh. Slowly and softly I kissed, sucked and nipped at the skin on his neck. I was determined to leave my mark on him. As I was doing so, he brought his hand up my arm and into my hair.

As I continued my regime to leave a small bruise on his neck, he would tug at my hair or moan and gasp quietly. He had brought his other hand up to my thigh where he would grip when he gave a particularly loud gasp of pleasure. I could feel him shift closer to me. He shifted so close that he eventually laid down and pulled me on top of him. I moved from the first bruise I had given him and on to make a new one. The lower halves of our bodies were pressed firmly together as I continued with the hickey giving. He was starting to get hard and when his growing erection pressed into my own, it made mine grow faster. As he sensed our arousals he pressed his hands against my chest and pushed.

"M-Marcus," he gasped loudly.

"Yes, my love?" I asked softly.

"W-We need to s-stop…" he answered in between gasps.

"Are you not enjoying my foreplay?" I asked, a little worried I had done something wrong.

"No, no, not at all. I love it, actually but…" his voice trailed off.

"Yes?" I asked quietly.

"I'm not ready to…give up my virginity, just yet," he answered with a short pause in the middle. Understanding washed over me and I nodded.

"Of course. I understand perfectly," I smiled down at him, wanting to laugh at my own stupidity. He smiled crookedly back.

"Y-You do?" he asked.

"Yes, my love, I do. However, if you don't mind, there is something I would like to try," I offered with a small smile.

"O-Oh? What is it?" he asked nervously and I gave him a wicked grin.

**DunDunDun…**

_Well, I hope you all enjoyed this chapter. I figured I would leave it at an interesting part so that you all would be hanging in suspense ;) can any of you guess what's going to happen next? I would love to know what you think is going to happen. You might just be right ;) Anyway, I'll post the next chapter when I can :D_

_Love,_

_Hannya (^_^)_


	7. Chapter 6: Oli, You're A Tease

Oliver

Continuing with that wicked grin of his, Marcus took my legs and shifted me around so that I was sitting upright with my legs slightly spread. He then crawled off the couch and on to the floor, pushing my legs farther apart so he could fit between them. The light of the fire danced behind him and made him look close to angelic as his hands rubbed my thighs before unbuttoning and unzipping my pants. Slowly, achingly slowly, he pulled them down my legs and slid one out of the pants at a time. When the pants were off to the side, he ran his hands back up my legs and tugged at my briefs, pulling them down as well and also tossing them aside. There I was, half-naked with Marcus between my legs and eyeing my erection hungrily.

His hands rested on my thighs as slowly he brought his head down and ran his tongue up the base of my prick, paying special attention to the throbbing veign he found. I bit my lip to suppress the needy moan that was rising in my throat. The pleasure increased as he swirled his tongue around the head before slowly wrapping his lips around it. Then he sucked gently. The moan escaped and my back arched slowly. Then he took more of my length into his mouth. My back arched again. Then he slid his mouth down farther, not giving me time to adjust to the wonderful feeling. Finally, he was down to the base and sucking gently. The man certainly had no gag reflex.

At first he only sucked slowly. Then the pace increased. The faster he sucked, the harder he sucked. My body was trembling in pleasure as I moaned loudly. My hand had wandered its way into his hair and now was gripping the short locks tightly. I was too focused on the pleasure to notice if I was hurting him. Harder, faster, harder, faster, harder, faster, harder, faster. The pace continued relentlessly and I was quickly reaching my climax. As if he had been reading my mind, Marcus brought his hand up to my sack and started to massage it. The gorgeous man on his knees before let out low and guttural moans, sending vibrations down my shaft and into my groin. Moments later, I had cum in his mouth. I thought the ephemeral orgasm might last forever but, alas, it had only lasted a few seconds. Surprisingly, Marcus had swallowed it all.

When everything was over and done with, Marcus reached up and finished undressing me as I tried to catch my breath. Without warning, he undressed himself before picking me up, carrying me to his bathroom and setting me down in his bathtub. The giant, oval, porcelain bowl was situated in the corner of the bathroom between the sink and the all glass shower. The tiles were black and the walls were paneled a dark blue. The curtains around the small fogged glass window beside the toilet were black. The toilet was white and so was the sink but the base upon which the sink was situated was also black. From waist level down, the glass of the shower was fogged just like the window. All in all, the bathroom itself was amazing.

A warm and wet sensation hit my feet when I realized Marcus had started filling the tub with water. As the water covered my legs, he poured in cherry blossom scented bubble bath gel. He shook his hand through the water, making the bubbles occur much faster than normal. I couldn't help but let out a childish giggle at his impatient antics. He smiled a crooked smile at me before climbing in with me. We sat on opposite sides of the tub, staring at each other until the water reached our chests. Then the flowing stopped and it was just Marcus and I in silence. I blushed at the realization that I was in a bathtub, naked, with an equally naked Marcus Flint. He chuckled at my embarrassment and I bit my lip.

"Why do you look so nervous, love?" he asked softly, letting one arm hang over the edge of the tub.

"I-I've never, well, been in a bathtub with a naked man other than myself…and I've definitely never been in a bathtub with a man who just gave me the most amazing b-blowjob in the world," I had struggled with the word "blowjob" after my short and awkward pause. He chuckled again.

"Well, perhaps this won't be the last time," he smirked with a wink and I blushed a deeper shade of red. I bit my lip harder as a new question made itself known. The action caused Marcus to give me a quizzical look and I blushed even deeper, though I had used to think that impossible.

"W-What…I…I want to know what it is that you would like me to do for you," I finally managed to blurt out. It was a hard battle but I managed to maintain eye contact with the wide-eyed brunet. His gaze quickly softened as he let out another chuckle.

"You don't have to do anything, love. I wanted to pleasure you. That gives joy," he smiled and I shook my head.

"It's only fair that I…" he cut me off my quickly moving forward and placing a deep kiss on my lips. When he finally pulled away, it was just enough so that his lips would brush against mine as he spoke.

"Oliver Wood, if you don't stop talking about fairness and let me have my way, I am going to ravage you," he hissed but not unkindly. I couldn't help but let out a squeak.

"O-Okay," I managed to stutter.

Despite my agreement, he didn't back away. While he did pull his face away, he also pulled at my legs and brought me closer to him. He then grabbed a washcloth and started to bathe me. Normally I would object to being bathed like a child but somehow, I didn't mind. Slowly he would bring the cloth down and then slowly he would take it back up. Every touch was soft, sensual and sweet. Nothing was rough or painful. He was gentle and somehow, every touch was filled with love. I couldn't help but watch in amazement as he seemed so focused on getting every inch of me clean. The process didn't take long and when it was over, he finally met my smiling gaze.

"You're so sweet, Marcus," I whispered and he blushed a light pink. To thank him, I ran my hands up his chest and pressed my lips to his while shutting my eyes.

We kissed softly for a few moments before I pulled away and started bathing him. I was amazed at his perfect body. The hills and valleys of his abdomen were defined but not so much so that it became grotesque. No veins really showed in his arms but they were definitely toned and defined. He certainly wasn't a bodybuilder but that was perfectly fine with me. His skin was soft and sun kissed. His fingers were long and slender and they weren't rough. His legs were long and strong, almost like a runner's legs. Although his body was perfect, his face was somehow more perfect than the rest of him. Sure, he needed a shave but I sort of liked the five o' clock shadow on him. His dark eyes matched his dark hair. His jaw line was strong but he didn't look like one of those blockheaded juggernauts.

Everything about him was just so…perfect, for lack of a better word. Sure, he could be a downright arse but I couldn't have chosen anyone better to be with. No one could change my opinion of him. He would have to piss me off pretty damn bad in order for me to even hint at a thought of no longer thinking he was perfect.

**DunDunDun…**

Marcus

My first time giving anyone a blowjob…well, it had certainly been an interesting experience. I thought I wasn't going to enjoy but seeing the way that Oliver had reacted to my every touch…I'm surprised I had managed to keep myself from getting hard. That had been the difficult part. As for the aftermath, taking a bath with him was certainly enjoyable. His face had been a bright red the whole time I bathed him and as he bathed me, he had examined my entire physique. As he had done so, I did the same to him.

His legs were long, toned and well shaped. His abdomen was toned but his abs weren't really visible. While mine were semi-visible, his were simply not there. His stomach was strong and flat, like a carpenter's dream. His chest muscles were slightly more defined than his stomach but he was still relatively flat. His arms were long and toned and his fingers were long and thin. His body was certainly "shirtless front cover of a magazine" worthy.

His facial features hadn't really changed since our schooldays. Clean shaven as he was, he looked almost childlike. His dark eyes and light red-brown hair stood out against his pale skin. He must spend a lot of time indoors when not playing Quidditch. I also noticed that he liked to bite his lower lip a lot, which coincidently, I did a lot of as well. Despite the bad habit we both shared, his pink lips were full, soft, and pouty. Perfect cock-sucker's lips. I couldn't wait for the day when that beautiful mouth wrapped itself around my…oi, I needed to stop thinking about those things.

Coming back to reality…Oliver and I had made it back to his room and passed out on his bed. He had gone in there to grab pajamas but had been too tired. The poor man had been too tired to get past putting on clean briefs. Chuckling, I had gone back to my room and put on briefs as well before returning to his room and climbing into bed with him. When I had awoken, I was alone. I climbed out of bed and padded down the hall only to see my Oli in the kitchen wearing…one of my button-up shirts? I chuckled quietly at the sight before walking up behind him silently and giving him a gentle pat on the bum. The little squeak he had let out had been so adorable.

"M-Marcus! I didn't know you were awake!" he exclaimed quickly when he had turned to face me, almost knocking the frying pan over. I chuckled again and looked past him at the pan.

"Well, isn't this cute? My little housewife is making me pancakes for breakfast," I full on laughed this time, causing the adorable Oli to blush a bright red.

"I'm not a girl," he huffed and turned back around to flip the cakes. I pressed closer to him and wrapped one arm around his waist and trailed the fingers on my right hand up his bare thigh.

"Mmm, no you certainly are not. You are most definitely a man," I whispered into his ear and planted a kiss on his neck. He blushed a brighter red and kept his gaze fixed on the pan.

"Th-That's right," he mumbled quietly and I chuckled.

"Now, what's this about you wearing my shirt, hm?" I asked, sucking on the spot I had kissed earlier. He bit his lower lip and flipped the cake again.

"It was the first thing I saw...It must have wound up in my laundry…" he mumbled with pauses. I nibbled a bit before barely pulling away.

"You had better not be lying, Oliver Wood," I said firmly and gave his bum another pat, harder this time. He squeaked again.

"I-I took it out of your drawer…I was cold and I like the way you smell…" he admitted softly and I smiled at the confession.

"Well, you're welcome to anything of mine you'd like to wear," I smiled and kissed his neck again before pulling away. The soft whimper that escaped his lips shocked me. He quickly turned the stove off and put the pancakes on a plate before turning to face me.

"Why did you pull away?" he asked, pouting.

"I was giving you some space," I answered, still a bit shocked. His pout grew and reached out with his foot and brushed my hip with his toes. I caught the falling foot by the ankle and tilted my head to the side.

"What's this about?" I asked, not sure what this little cock tease was up to.

"I was thinking that…after breakfast…we could have some more fun," he answered, biting his lip and running his finger up and down the buttons of the shirt. He slowly undid a couple to tease me further.

"Who said we have to wait?" I asked and pulled him to me.

Before he could answer or even think, I had picked him up and was on the way to his room. I tossed him on the bed and quickly crawled on top, practically tearing the shirt from his body. Our rapidly growing erections were clearly visible in our briefs. Without hesitation, I tore his underwear from his body and ripped off my own. Before I knew it, we were kissing and rubbing our erections together. The sensation was amazing. Oli was clawing at my back and I was holding on to his thigh with a bruising grip. We gasped, moaned, hissed, begged for more as the pleasure struck at our groin.

It wasn't much longer before two of us were shouting each other's names and coming all over each other. I collapsed next to him and gasped for air, both of us sweating profusely. I could tell that living with Oli was going to be interesting. Once we got married, it would be even more interesting.

**DunDunDun…**

_I APOLOGIZE FOR THE LOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOONG WAIT! . I've just been so, so, so busy with school and my senior paper and just personal junk . Anyway, I present you with a half-assed sexual chapter. It is certainly not my best but I did what I could in a short amount of time to give you guys something . Please forgive me! _

_I thank you all for sticking around and putting up with my junk. I also want to thank you for the wonderful reviews and favorites and such~! You all are so amazing~! Hopefully I'll be able to type a new chapter soon!_

_Love,_

_Hannya (^_^)_


	8. Chapter 7: Vultures

Oliver

It had been a couple of weeks since the amazing blowjob Marcus had given me. Life was pleasant. We never got in arguments anymore, we were keeping each other "pleased" (if you know what I mean), and we had a routine. I would get up, make us breakfast, take a shower after Marcus left for work and then I would get dressed before heading out as well. Marcus was in the middle of a huge contract signing. It was important that his team trade players. I, on the other hand, was spending most of my time in the Ministry's Quidditch department. They were asking me to agree to do press conferences and photo shoots and a bunch of other things.

However, I kept getting a reoccurring question. People were always asking when Marcus and I were getting married. I had no idea. I didn't even have a ring. All I had was a piece of paper stating that the two of us were engaged so…how was I supposed to answer their question? Believe me when I say that I tried asking the aloof brunet. He would avoid the subject, change topics or claim he had something to do. It started to feel like he was avoiding me. The only things we had talked about recently were what was for dinner and if we should go out for a film or something. I was starting to get annoyed.

So, I decided that when I went home today that I was going to demand an answer to the question or at least some suggestions to give the reporters and such. I was getting tired of the whole "I don't know" act. It would only bring more questions like, "Why? What do you mean? How come you don't know about a date yet? You've been living together for a month or so, right?" It was exhausting. So, when I returned to Marcus's and my flat, I fixed a simple dinner and decided to wait on the couch for him to come home. Right at six-thirty, he walked through the door.

"Hey, Oli. How was work today?" he asked as he slid out of his coat and suit jacket.

"It was fine…other than having to fend off the vultures again," I answered, giving him an exhausted look which received an equally exhausted sigh.

"Oliver, we've been over this a thousand times," he groaned. Uh-oh. He only used my real name when it was time to be serious.

"I know, Marcus, but I would like to know what to tell them. I'm getting tired of having to say the words 'I don't know' all the time," I sighed, standing and starting to approach him. I wasn't angry but I made my exasperation obvious in my voice.

"Tell them it will be soon, I suppose," he defended himself, shutting his eyes and rubbing his temples.

"Soon? You want me to give them a generalization? Honestly, you know that never works with reporters. Those people, especially Daily Prophet writers, are ruthless. They aren't going to settle for that…and how am I supposed to respond to Fred, George, Harry and the others that want to know when? You want me to tell them 'soon' too? Alright, well, what am I going to tell them when the twins ask how it can be soon when I don't have the ring you promised me? I don't like pushing for facts and details, Marcus, but they're at my throat all the time!" I groaned at the end, feeling the defeat ready to crash in on me.

"I don't know, Oliver! Tell them whatever you want! Talking about this is starting to get old. Every time I come home, you're bugging me about it. I'm starting to tire of all the nagging," he sighed, looking at me now.

"You're tired of all the nagging? You don't deal with those nosy people all day! You sit in a conference room discussing trades for your team and contracts! I go to press conferences, photo shoots, and exclusive interviews and they all want to know the same damn thing! I have a job, too, Marcus! And I'm not trying to bug you! If they wouldn't ask, I wouldn't! So don't you dare try to make this out to be my fault!" I snapped at him.

"I'm not saying it's your fault but for once, can't you just leave it be? I want things to be right and perfect before I give you the ring! Do you really want it to be in the midst of chaos and work and all this other shit that's piling up on us?" he snapped back.

"You know, I wouldn't care how you proposed! I just want to know that you want me! Honestly, we barely see each other! We never speak about anything but work and this damn argument! I'm starting to feel like nothing more than a name on a contract to you!" I shouted, wishing I hadn't.

"Oliver, you're not just some name on a contract to me. I love you so very much and I need you to know that. I just want to make things perfect for you. When a man proposes to the person he loves, it's an experience neither person ever forgets. Do you really want to look back on the night I proposed and see an argument?" he asked, softly this time moving forward. Tears were coming to my eyes.

"Marcus, I don't care. I just need to know that you want me. I…I need to know that I'm the most important thing to you…" I mumbled, moving closer to him as well. He stretched out his arms and pulled me close when I came within reach.

"Oli, you are the most important thing to me. Nothing is going to change that, ever. Don't ever forget it," he whispered, pressing his lips to my cheek as I rested my head on his shoulder. I sniffed a bit, holding back my tears and swallowing the lump in my throat.

"I'm so sorry, Marcus. I don't like bugging you and making you upset. I'm just…I guess I'm just beating myself up for that crap that happened all those years ago. I'm just so…self-conscious. I'm not good enough for you, Marcus. I never have been," I sighed and rested my hands on his shoulders. He shifted and held me out by my shoulders, not too far away.

"Stop talking like that. Oliver Wood, you are perfect. You have the body of a god and the patience of a saint. If anyone hasn't been good for anyone, it's me. You deserve so much better than some lousy Slytherin," he sighed and shook his head. I couldn't help but smile a bit.

"Hey, don't you start talking like that either. You know, Slytherins aren't all bad. Snape was a Slytherin and he was one of the greatest wizards of all time and your mentor. So, I'm glad that my gorgeous fiancée is a Slytherin. I wouldn't have it any other way," I smiled at him, moving closer and giving him a soft kiss before pulling away again. The low chuckle he let out was soft and gentle.

"I'm so glad I have you, Oli. I don't know what I would do if I didn't have you," he whispered and kissed my forehead.

"I don't know what I would do without you, either," I whispered back, planting a soft kiss on his throat.

"Mm, I do know that if you weren't around, I could focus on other things that the burning lust in my groin when I came home," he chuckled boldly and I blushed.

"Well, if you didn't have me around, you wouldn't have a hot and wet mouth ready and waiting to help relieve the pooling lust in your groin," I drawled in a slow and sexy tone before licking at his lips.

"Oh you naughty, naughty Gryffindor. I do believe I've been a bad influence on you," he chuckled and slid a hand down to cup my arse.

"Mm, but just think about the influence you're going to have on me on our wedding night," I teased and he sucked in a breath.

"You are such a cock tease," he groaned, his voice husky with need.

"But you forget that I'm a better cock-sucker," I teased more and he squeezed.

"Maybe you should remind me," he winked and I giggled slightly.

"Oh, I plan on it," I whispered and lead him to the bedroom, his hand never leaving my arse and my hand never losing its grip on his tie.

**DunDunDun…**

Marcus

That night, Oliver had given me the best blowjob ever. He'd given great blowjobs before but that night was something else. Still, that night had held something else for me. It had reminded me that I needed to propose and soon. I know Oli was only asking because the newspapers kept asking and that didn't bother me. What did bother me was that he had to keep waiting because I could never find the right moment to tell him.

I didn't want to do one of those fancy dinners with personal music and the ring in a glass of champagne. I didn't want to do during a walk on the park or on the beach or some cheesy, unoriginal thing like that. No, I wanted to do something special. Problem was, I wasn't really a creative guy and I never had time to sit down and rack my brain on how to do it. I had the ring but I needed the night planned out. Finally, I came up with a plan. I just needed help from the right people and I knew just the few to do it.

**DunDunDun…**

_I am so, so, so sorry for the delay! I had finished my senior paper, made up some long past due work, contracted bronchitis, started a fan fiction request, my laptop crapped out, and I had graduation practice. Then I finally graduated v.v I've just been so busy you guys but I plan to keep with it this time around! I am so sorry for taking so long to update ._

_On a lighter note…I came up with a proposal that is kind of lame . but I think it'll be cute since its Marcus and Oliver ^_^ anyway, I plan to update soon so please, stick with me. My laptop is still having issues so I have to use my dad's. In other words, it may be a few days but it shouldn't take longer than that v.v Alright, I'll keep you guys posted!_

_Love,_

_Hannya (^_^)_


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